Punch (86.1884)

January 19, 1884.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

PLAY AT THE WORKHOUSE.


It has come to the knowledge of Mr.
Punch that at certain Workhouses, Asylums,
.and Hospitals, where, during this festive
season, various entertainments have been
given for the supposed delectation and relief
of the poor, the sick, and the suffering, the
very evil custom has recently obtained of
filling up all the front places with a motley
crowd of visitors, guests, and patrons, while
the genuine audience of the occasion, the
inmates of the respective establishments
themselves, have been relegated to the back
of the room, where they can neither see
what is going on, nor hear a word of what
is being said. There is unfortunately
nothing very new about this genial method
of dispensing British Charity. The typical
“ Institution,” no matter for whose benefit
or by whose benevolence it has been
founded, speedily in this country develops
into a rather brutal and plainspoken sort of
Almshouse, where every recipient of the
particular charity is made to understand
that he ought thoroughly to feel his depen-
dent position, and be humbly and submis-
sively grateful for the great privileges of
which he, a pauper, is considerately suffered
to partake.

Tor this not over agreeable outcome of
our National Endowed Charity, the patro-
nising attitude, inseparable from the smug
respectability by which it is surrounded, if
not supported, is mainly responsible. So it
happens that, when marching with the
times, a Board here, or a set of Governors
there, decide on providing a little seasonable
and pleasant entertainment for the poor or
the suffering entrusted to their supervision,
Officialism steps in, and being really
honestly convinced that there would be
-something incongruous, if not even mon-
strous, in showing a pauper to a front place,

■ and treating him, even once in a way, with
the. courtesy and consideration proper to
■ordinary mortals, appropriates five rows of
stalls itself, and fills up the whole body of
the hall with its wives and daughters, its
cousins, its sisters, and its aunts, over whose
fair, heads, as they enjoy a more or less
exhilarating three hours’ outing for nothing,
the presumed “patrons” of the evening’s
entertainment stare as well as they can
from the crush in which they are huddled
together anyhow about the distant doorways.
Now, this is a scandal; and though one to
which there are honourable exceptions, still
one that has obtained too much of late to
admit of its being passed over any longer
in silence.

Having said this, Mr. Punch feels he has
said enough. He mentions no names—this
time. However, he tenders to the culpable
this one bit of advice, which he trusts may
be acted upon when, at the close of the
present year, the idea, is again mooted, as
no doubt it will be, of giving another annual
treat. If it be necessary then, as now, that
Incialism and its family should have a
cheap entertainment at somebody’s expense,
mt it be drafted off to the nearest local
Music-hall, and its entrance to the sixpenny
seats be. defrayed from the funds of the
institution, and charged to “Petty Cash.”
but let it not be admitted within the
precincts of the rival establishment on the
gala day. Let that, stalls and all, provide
something better than a mockery of a show
ror its inmates, though they be those social
pariahs, the recipients of British Charity.

National Inconsistency.—The Pansla-
'vist Propaganda’s aspiration for liberty.

Diner-Out (leaking up, with a severe cold—and “serves him right"). “ Thesesh gorgeqush
Shun-she’sh ’pos’ively mag-nif’shel ! ! ”

The Shriek of the Seven Thousand.

We read with considerable alarm that seven thousand whistles have been ordered for
the Metropolitan Police, and furthermore we are informed that the whistle is “of an improved
make and unusually shrill.” Those who happen to dwell in the neighbourhood of a Club
know how annoying the mild efforts of the buttons and the hall-porter in whistling for cabs
become after a time. Now that the Police anthem is “ Whistle, and I’ll come to ye, my
lad,” the Burglar will, with his pipe (short clay), respond, “Little Boy Blue, be quiet with
your—whistle ! ”

Cinderella is most deservedly successful, and the only night, says Mr. Augustus
Harris, when perhaps we were not doing quite so well as usual was on Twelfth Night,
when we were “ Doing Baddeley.”_

“ Argosy braces ? ” said Mrs. Ramsbotham, reading an. advertisement. “ Well, so does
Brighton, and so does Ramsgate ; but one can’t always be going to the same places, so I think
I ’ll try Argosy for a week or two.”_

Testimonials.—Expensive recognitions of incompetence.

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